


Ambushed

by Mareel



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s01e12 Silent Enemy, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 18:10:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2782655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareel/pseuds/Mareel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone to watch over you...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ambushed

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in Season 1, some time after the birthday party for Malcolm in "Silent Enemy." The relationship between them is still redeveloping, one small step at a time. Is is Jonathan's voice.

 

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Something is missing. The moment I step out of the lift onto the Bridge for alpha shift, I feel it. Taking my seat, my first glance is always at the viewscreen. Then, no matter if what I see there is startling or unremarkable, my eyes always turn next to my right, toward Tactical. I've always assumed I did that to make sure the ship was ready for anything we might encounter. 

But today it becomes very clear to me that while tactical readiness might be part of it, what I'm really doing is touching base with Malcolm. He always seems to expect my glance and usually meets my eyes with the smallest of nods, or on some days a trace of a smile. 

That's what's missing today. The tactical station is staffed... but it's the gamma shift tactical officer, Ensign Tanner. I nod at him, but feel disconcerted, off-balance somehow. Malcolm is never late to a duty shift. Ever. Not in all the months that _Enterprise_ has been out here. 

I don't want to worry anyone or embarrass him to his armory staff, so I resist the urge to page the Armory or to call Trip in Engineering to see if Malcolm is there by any chance. Moving to the ready room, I comm Malcolm's quarters. Maybe he overslept – they've been working long hours to repair the damage from our last non-friendly encounter, along with upgrading the defense systems. This was Malcolm's pet project, so I'm sure he's working on it as much as he can.

No answer. Leaving the Bridge to T'Pol, I decide to make a personal visit to the Armory. Malcolm's office door is open and it's empty. I'm going to have to ask someone. "Ensign, have you seen Lieutenant Reed this morning?" 

"No, sir. Not since I've been on shift."

"What was gamma shift working on last night?"

She hesitates only a moment. "The power couplings and relays for the torpedo guidance system, I believe. The work was behind schedule, sir, and the Lieutenant wanted it done. Several crew pulled extra shifts to work on the problem."

A thought and a worry are running through my mind. What if Malcolm decided to work on it himself... and what if something had gone wrong? He could be lying there unconscious... or worse. Heedless of betraying my concern, I page him. "Archer to Lieutenant Reed. Malcolm, please reply." Only silence.

It's not the first time I've crawled through the cramped accessways that run parallel to the torpedo launchers and I've not gotten any smaller – it's still cramped as hell. But it looks like my sense of wrongness was spot on. Just past the second junction box, Malcolm is slumped against the wall, the mini-console still folded down from the control box next to him. 

Reaching for his hand, I feel for a pulse and breathe a massive sigh of relief to feel it - slow and steady. But he doesn't wake or regain consciousness. At this point I don't know if it's sleep or if he's unconscious from an injury, perhaps an electrical overload. 

I squeeze into the small space next to him, folding my legs under me as best I can, and touch his shoulder. "Malcolm?" Still no response. He seems to be breathing regularly, but he just doesn't rouse. His hand feels cold - there's not much heat in this conduit and if he's been here like this for hours, he's probably pretty chilled. Without thinking a lot about it, I gather him close to my chest, wrapping my arms around him to try to warm him. 

I'm just reaching for my communicator to page Phlox for a medical team when I feel Malcolm stirring a little in my arms. "Malcolm? Wake up, Malcolm. Please wake up."

He lifts his head a little, turning his face up toward the sound of my voice. His eyes are sleepy and a little blood-shot. "Captain? Where am I...? What are you...?" He doesn't finish his questions, seeming to finally recognize his surroundings. 

He tries to pull himself together, slipping from my arms and sitting as upright as he can. "Captain, I apologise for all of this. It is inexcusable. And it won't happen again, sir."

"What won't happen again? What happened here? Were you injured? Shocked? How long have you been in here? It's alpha shift... I missed you on the Bridge and came looking for you."

His face is taking on a deep flush, probably from embarrassment. "I'm fine, Captain. I was completing repairs on this system and it appears I was ambushed by sleep, sir. I've no excuse for it. I'm willing to accept any reprimand or disciplinary action you feel is appropriate."

He's trying for calm in his voice, but I can feel his body tensing up against my chest. "Malcolm. You fell asleep. Probably after working at least three shifts. Am I correct, Lieutenant?"

His reply is very quiet. "Five shifts on duty, sir, including my regular Bridge shift yesterday. But I'm fine, sir. Almost done here, just let me finish up with this coupling... "

"You're finished for now, Lieutenant. I want you to take twenty-four hours off duty - hopefully asleep for much of that time."

"Captain... I need to finish... "

"That's an order, Malcolm. If I need to I can have you confined to Sickbay, but I'd rather not. Now let me help you get out of here and I'll see you to your quarters."

"No need for that, Captain. I can find my way."

"No arguments. I need to make sure you get there safely and get some sleep." I let out a long breath, realizing how worried I'd been. I try to soften my tone. "Malcolm... you scared the hell out of me. I was afraid I'd find you unconscious or even dead. Do you know how that made me feel..." I stop abruptly, afraid I've already said too much.

I feel Malcolm relax against me and breathe more easily myself, relieved not to have stepped over any lines that would have caused him to pull away.

"Let's go... can you crawl? I don't think I can carry you through here." 

He makes no reply, but simply moves from where we were sitting and begins making his way out of the conduit. I follow close behind him, glad when we reach the end of the service tunnel and we can both stand. 

He glances at me, asking silent permission before calling to his duty officer and instructing her to get those repairs finished today. She replies that she's already on it, adding, "And I hope you can get some rest, sir. You look exhausted."

It's definitely a sign of how tired he is that Malcolm doesn't reply that he's fine. He simply nods at her and moves slowly toward the Armory exit. I'm right behind him.

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Outside his quarters, Malcolm palms open the door wearily and steps inside. I hesitate in the doorway. "Malcolm, maybe I can come in? Just for a few minutes?"

"You don't trust me to get some sleep, Captain?"

I’ve have never hidden been able to hide much from Malcolm. I don’t know if he reads everyone that easily. "Am I that transparent?" 

His small nod betrays most of his exhaustion. He's seldom that direct with me. 

"It'll all right. I probably wouldn't trust me either on that one, sir. But, really, I'll be fine. Not that I'm unappreciative for your concern..." 

He sinks heavily onto the side of his bunk, toeing off his boots. He is reaching for the zip on his rumpled, grease-stained uniform when he halts abruptly, his hand still on the fastening.

His blush was returning. This time, it's mirrored by my own. I don't know why – we've all dressed together in the EV suit-storage room. I've even helped him with his suit. But this feels more intimate and I hastily turn toward his bookshelf, perusing the small collection of mostly military history books to allow him his privacy.

When I turn, he's lying on his side on the narrow bunk, pulling a blanket over himself. His quarters are normal temperature, but he's shivering. I touch his shoulder lightly. "Can I find you another blanket, Malcolm? I thought you got pretty chilled in that conduit overnight."

"I'm fin... oh damn it. Bottom drawer."

I retrieve the blanket and wrap it over him, tucking him in beneath it before perching on the end of the bunk. "Better?"

He nods, curling up under the warmth. "Thank you... you don't have to take care of me, you know. The Captain of the _Enterprise_ must use more urgent duties."

Catching his eyes, I hold this gaze for a long moment. "No, right now I don't, Malcolm." 

I’m rewarded by a tired smile. Followed by a yawn. "You don't need to stay, Captain... I don't think I could move right now if I wanted to. But you're welcome. Suit yourself."

I pat his shoulder again before I get up. "Just till I'm sure you're going to stop shivering. May I borrow a book for a few minutes?"

"Be my guest... not very light reading though. You might fall asleep before I do." But another yawn belies that. 

"Sleep well, Malcolm." 

His eyes have already drifted closed. 

I didn't read anything. I barely glance at the volume I'd selected from his shelf. I just watch his sleep for a time, listening to his breathing as it slows and deepens. 

He must have gotten warmer while I was there, since a hand has slipped out from under the covers, resting on top of the blanket. Before I leave, I touch his hand gently in farewell. He doesn't wake, but I didn't want to just leave with no goodbye. Especially since I feel like i've been given a gift of his trust. 

As I slip silently from his quarters to go back to the Bridge, I wonder whether that I would have done that for any member of my crew. Trip, for sure... I've tucked him into bed after a long night drinking at the 602 Club after one of his relationships ended. But no, there is no one else I can himself of... only Malcolm.

It's like the birthday cake. I _wanted_ to do it. His smile was my reward.

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End file.
